


After They Bury Their Dead

by GrumpyJenn



Category: NCIS
Genre: Friendship, Team as Family, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn





	

"I really am sorry, Ziva."

Ziva nodded, and Tony was sure she understood what he meant. He had hurt her, and she had only been trying to help.

He hated himself for that, almost as much as he did for what he'd done to Jeanne.

They were alone in the bullpen for the moment; everyone else had gone home. Tony had the distinct impression that Ziva wouldn't leave until he did; she thought it was her job to keep track of him.

She was watching him warily from across her desk, and Tony was surprised to see what looked like tears in her eyes.

Ziva didn't really do tears.

Her expression was usually _very_ guarded, careful to give nothing at all away, except sometimes exasperation. 

Shit, he really _had_ hurt her, badly enough to make her tear up and maybe cry.

This had to be fixed, and right now.

"Campfire."

She rolled her eyes, but there were still tears in them as she scooted her chair toward the middle of the room. 

With both chairs rolled up in the middle of the dimly lit room, Tony and Ziva sat, knees almost touching. 

"What's wrong?" He could hear how hesitant his voice sounded. Quietly tearful Ziva was an unknown quantity. Unpredictable; would she talk to him or hit him or hell, even land him in the hospital? 

He had hurt her, and he didn't know what to expect.

It certainly wasn't for her to thank him.

"Thank me? For what?" Some sort of cultural thing? She did still have trouble with American idioms, though part of Tony wondered if she did it on purpose as a kind of shield, a disarming tactic. But she was still talking, haltingly and softly, but talking.

"You... trust me."

"Of course," Tony said automatically.

"No... 'of course' you trust me to watch your back, in the field." Ziva took both her hands in his. "But you also trust me to... to be a neck to cry on, yes?"

Tony found himself smiling. Maybe she did flub the idioms on purpose, maybe not. "Shoulder," he said. "A shoulder to cry on." He paused. "Yes, I guess I do."

Ziva took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes, her own deep brown ones serious and still tear-sheened. "No-one has done this before."

It was said so simply and matter-of-factly (in spite of the thickening accent that probably meant she was baring her soul), that Tony caught his breath.

"No-one?"

"No. Yes." She shook her head. "No... no-one."

"Well... we're partners," Tony offered. "And we're... friends."

One of the tears dropped. 

And Ziva smiled at him.

 


End file.
